


Curse You, Heinz Darthenshmirtz

by handschuhmaus



Category: Phineas and Ferb, Phineas and Ferb: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Bratwurst, De-aged Plagueis, Doofenshmirtz Quality Bratwurst, Gen, I have no idea really what Plagueis thinks of bratwurst, Palpatine's poor parenting procedure problems, PnF canon-typical child abuse, also the only one presently responsible enough for lightning is Sidious, completely ridiculous, inator consequences, little Hego is slightly mischievous, no actual French Navy references in the fic, papa Palpatine, teenaged Doofenshmirtz, the only thing you love with a load of conviction is your own projects, the reason why Doofenshmirtz er Darthenshmirtz is the lowest of the Darths, you with your dietary restrictions Hego Damask
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handschuhmaus/pseuds/handschuhmaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darthenshmirtz, as a young inventor and retailer of bratwurst, accidentally turns Plagueis into a child, which does not rank highly on Sideous's list of impressive feats. Indeed, it annoys him so greatly that it's a very good way to be permanently reduced in rank...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curse You, Heinz Darthenshmirtz

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Reverse Sith Duo: Sidious & Maul](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/65343) by pileofsith. 



> ...I have my reasons for utilizing the name Doofenshmirtz here...
> 
> And basically, I wrote this expressly for the purpose of _Sidious_ having to deal with tiny Hego... ;D
> 
> Opinions regarding bratwurst in this fic do not necessarily reflect those of the author.

"What is the meaning of this?" the genteel but slightly menacing Muun looming in the doorway to Heinz Doofenshmirtz's kitchen inquired unceremoniously.

"What is the meaning of _what_ , man? I mean, you can't just stroll into a guy's apartment like this. Why were you in my kitchen?" Doofenshmirtz asked casually.

"I discovered evidence to support my working theory that you are responsible for all the bratwurst paraphernalia and catalogs that have been posted to me. And--"

"Don't you like bratwurst?" Doofenshmirtz asked. When the Muun did not immediately show enthusiasm (his coolness might in part be due to his being interrupted) he sighed and continued, "Have you ever _tried_ bratwurst, man? I think everyone should try bratwurst; they're so much better than regular old hot dogs."

"I do not eat sausages," Hego Damask explained with gritted teeth. "And the final irritation is that you have allowed your supplier of 'Doofenshmirtz Quality Bratwurst'-" he said this scathingly and entirely without trying to do the jingle, "-to send a bill for you to my address! The whole scheme was nearly too crazy for me to believe."

"Hey man, that's not what I was trying to do. Maybe we can settle this after I finish working on my De-ageinator?"

"Your--" he started incredulously but did not finish.

"Yeah, my de-ageinator. See, when I was a little kid and my parents had another baby, they thought it was going to be a girl and my mother made all these dresses, only it turned out to be a boy, Roger, who my parents thought was a perfect son and then I had to wear the dresses, so to get revenge on Roger, I'm going to turn him into a baby again." Heinz explained, selecting a socket wrench from the toolbox.

The skeptical look on Damask's face should have adequately shown what he thought of this unlikely plan, but Doofenshmirtz was not fazed by other beings' disbelief and continued in his work. It was then, however, that he lost his grip on the wrench and it plummeted down directly onto the activator control that he had unwisely placed on the inator's base. (In his defense, at the time he had intended to install a pivot targeting set-up so that he could aim the inator by moving the emitter with both hands.)

When he turned around, where the elderly Muun had been standing, there was now a Muun child, perhaps four-feet tall, draped in the clothes his older self had been wearing, still clutching the sheaf of letters and staring plaintively at Doofenshmirtz.

"Who are you?" the child asked.


End file.
